


Splashes of Blue

by bluphacelia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bikinis, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Pool Sex, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, Summer, There is a smidgen of plot if you squint, a hint of crossdressing, remember that pool scene, things don't go quite as planned, what if the first time lance takes keith to the pool, yeah that pool scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 15:38:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12171807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluphacelia/pseuds/bluphacelia
Summary: "It's a—bikini. I can't believe the ship made you a bikini," Lance chortles and Keith feels his face flush."Fix it!" Keith seathes, finger pointing at the monitor. ”Fix it right now!!""I can't. I literally used the same sequence to make mine! Unless you want to go to Coran and explain why you need it fixed."--Or the time Lance takes Keith to the pool.





	Splashes of Blue

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote something for the summer exchange, but I couldn't leave it to just that. Added some spice and all things nice. Thank you to everyone who read this!! It took me like 2 months extra but here it is. I now leave you this offering. Please be kind.

Keith trudges down the hallway, hair dripping droplets of water onto his collar from his hasty shower after training. He'd ended his session early, feeling the sudden sharp twinge in his knee and not wanting to go through the same casual scolding he receives from Shiro every time he pushes his body too hard. He'd left to go find something else to do–mostly to find Lance, who usually seemed to have more free time than anyone else on board. Thus, his recent failure to corner Lance outside of their Team Voltron training sessions and the missions was strange, and more than a little irritating.

Taking a single calming breath, Keith walks up to the blue paladin's quarters. He raises a hand to knock, but the door slides open under his fist. Keith blinks once at Lance, who stands in front of him, towel slung across his shoulder as though he's just come out of the shower–he has not; there is no telltale gleam to his cheeks.

"Oh, hey! You're out early," Lance says, grabbing Keith's hand where it hangs, forgotten, in midair.

"Had to stop," Keith replies, motioning vaguely toward his leg. He watches Lance's face light up.

"I got just the thing!" Lance side-steps past Keith, pulling him along down the corridor, leading them toward the elevators. "A nice surprise!"

Keith hesitates. Lance with an idea is dangerous enough, but Lance with a surprise is almost downright deadly.

Lance looks back at his faltering boyfriend, tugging at his hand to keep him walking as they reach the elevators. "You coming with? Or are you just gonna stay here like a wet towel?"

Keith pulls his hand away and Lance takes the opportunity to place his palm over the reader by the elevator.

"I'm not a-a"—Keith growls—"wet towel."

"A-hah." Lance grins, eyes already turned up to the elevator monitor; right on cue it dings and he steps inside. "Well?"

"Where are you taking me?" Keith finally gives up and follows, hot on Lance’s heels.

"I found something cool on the starboard deck! Well, Coran showed it to me, but still," Lance says and pushes a button. The doors slide closed.

"As if you even know what starboard is," Keith replies, just to say something, not quite sure why he's trying to instigate a fight.

"I went to flight school for just as long as you! No—I was there longer than you, you dropout," Lance replies in kind, rubbing salt into an old wound.

Keith feels his hackles rise, but he manages to keep his voice even as he replies, "You do know an airplane is not a ship, right?"

"But a space airship is a ship _and_ a plane, right? You know I'm right." There is a clear edge of smugness to Lance's voice.

Keith rolls his eyes. "So, are you going to tell me what this is all about, then?"

"It's a surprise!" Lance sing-songs, stepping in close only to poke him lightly in the nose. Keith has an abrupt urge to puff out his cheeks, but he squashes it with haste.

"I don't know why I put up with you." Keith lets out a pained sigh, but doesn't resist as Lance slings his arm across his shoulders. The elevator halts and Lance takes Keith's hand, pulling him out through the sliding doors. 

The hallway around them looks different from the rest of the ship. The floor is made out of tile and there's a clear pungent smell in the air. Keith wrinkles his nose.

"Is that salt?" he asks rubbing his hand across his nose, not quite trusting his senses. It almost smells like that one time he'd driven up the West Coast with his dad.

"Yup," Lance says, but doesn't elaborate, only tugs Keith along toward wherever he is leading them.

It doesn't take them long to come to another door, the first one on this stretch of Castle Ship.

"This place is weird. I've never been to this side of the. . ." Keith’s sentence trails off as he looks through the open door. It's a pool. A huge pool of water inside the ship. 

"You found a pool," Keith says as Lance lets go of his hand. It falls loosely to his side, his fingers twitching from the sudden loss.

"Isn't it great? I don't think anyone else knows about it yet. Well, the princess and Coran do. Coran's the one who told me about it when I said . . ." it was Lance's turn to trail off and Keith feels his eyebrows furrow, but the smile is back on Lance's face as he kicks off his sneakers.

"It's so great! I had the ship make me a pair of swimming trunks! And you can actually control the water from over there." Lance waves toward a monitor mounted to the wall. "You can do pretty much anything with it. I can't actually read most of the Altean, but Coran showed me how to make it slightly salty and really fresh. He also gave me controls to the heat settings so you can get almost a perfect feel of an ocean in the summer!"

"That's . . . nice," Keith says as he watches Lance shrug off his jacket near the edge of the pool. His shirt goes next and he's down to unbuckling his belt. "Hey, hey! Shouldn't you do that in a locker room or something?"

Lance looks around already halfway out of his pants. He's wearing a blue pair of swimming trunks underneath.

"It's not like anyone is gonna walk in on us." But contrary to his words, Lance pulls his pants back up and walks up to the wall panel. "Come here."

Keith follows. Apparently not fast enough for Lance as he yanks him closer, placing Keith's hand on top of the reader below. The monitor blinks red for a few seconds before it dings and a part of the wall slides out revealing a hidden compartment.

"There you go," Lance says, letting go of Keith's wrist. "Magical ship swimwear! I used the same settings as mine but it should have read how big you are. . ." 

Lance trails off as he watches Keith lift the new red–pieces of cloth–out of the box. The container slides back, merging into the wall.

"What the hell is this?" Keith holds up the red swimsuit in his hands. Lance balks and something weird is happening with his face. 

"It's a—bikini. I can't believe the ship made you a bikini," Lance chortles and Keith feels his face flush.

"Fix it!" Keith seathes, finger pointing at the monitor. ”Fix it right now!!"

"I can't. I literally used the same sequence to make mine! Unless you want to go to Coran and explain why you need it fixed."

Keith grumbles and holds out the two pieces of cloth, not quite certain what to do with them.

"Go on then," Lance says, eyes intent on him. "Put it on."

Keith can't help the low growl as he glares at the offending pieces of cloth. They feel oddly smooth against his fingers, more viscous, kind of silky. There is a singular moment he is lost in the feeling before he snaps back, eyes glinting, the bikini bunching up in his fist as he turns his glare to the culprit.

"Changing rooms?" Keith barks. "And a towel."

"Wait until I show you the full spa after the pool! But yeah, you can go in there to change." Lance nods toward the back of the large room. He gives Keith a look—one that speaks volumes and says nothing—and turns, not bothering to wait, just goes back to tugging at his jeans. Soon enough, they pool down at his feet and he kicks them to the side, tugging his socks off before walking up to the edge of the pool. Keith feels his eyes slide down then up—wide shoulders and slim hips, blue that accents tan skin. He turns his gaze, a guilty flush fighting its way to his cheeks.

"Come on then! The water's wonderful!" Lance looks back at him and their eyes meet.

"I'll . . . just go change," Keith mutters and bites the inside of his cheek. This was just his luck. First the pool and now the stupid ship making him stupid swimwear. He's not quite ready to admit that the idea of jumping into a pool of water isn't the first thing he'd pick to do on a day off. He turns and stalks toward the back of the room, ignoring the telltale splash of water behind him. 

Keith ducks into one of the adjacent side rooms and tugs off his clothes, neatly folding them to the side—more to stall for time than anything else. But all too soon he finds himself standing in his new. . .swimwear—towel in hand—by the edge of the pool.

He can see Lance at the other end, at least twenty-five meters away, skimming through the water as though he was built for just this purpose. For the life of him, Keith can't look away. His eyes are glued to Lance, his elegant strokes through the water, lightning quick movements, parting it with the ease of a seasoned swimmer as he comes up for a breath. He is a meter from the end when he dives below, somersaulting in the water to gain leverage from the wall before pushing off and resurfacing a good two meters out. 

Spotting Keith, Lance halts. Straight up stops like he's hit a wall, water splashing around him, the complete opposite of the elegant flow through the water. He bobs up and down, visually gathering himself before lifting a hand up into a wave. Keith looks down at the pool, the water lapping gently against the side, and a sudden feeling of distaste makes his chest tighten as he feels the small hairs on the back of his neck rise.

"Come on!" Lance yells across the pool. His voice breaks a little in the middle, but he rushes past it as though it never happened. After a moment of Keith not moving to comply, he starts swimming toward his end, slower than before, head above the water, eyes trained on the other paladin.

"What's wrong? Can't you swim?" Lance teases as he gets closer only to see Keith fidget back a step before crouching down, fingers digging into his ankles as he balances on his toes, towel slipping precariously out of his slackened grip. It catches the bikini top over his non-existent chest as he perches by the edge. Why does he _always_ make such bad life choices?

"No way. For real?" Lance pauses to tread water just short of where Keith sits. Eyes wide and dipping down and then back up causing the flush to return ten fold.

"Shut up!" Keith huffs and averts his gaze to the pool. "Of course I can swim. Probably. I mean it's just water, who doesn't know how to swim. I just. Never got a chance to try it before . . ." Keith trails off and licks his lips. Swimming comes naturally, right? They have swimming classes for babies, for crying out loud.

"Oh my God." Lance is by the edge already, hands draped across the tile, the brine scented water pooling all over the floor. Keith has an urge to inch away as the water droplets ooze into a puddle, quickly inching toward his toes. "You're ridiculous. Have you never been to a pool before? The Garrison has a mandatory swim exam for crying out loud! Don't tell me you didn't ace that as well?"

Keith feels the telltale licks of embarrassment creeping up his neck. "I grew up in a desert, what did you expect?"

Lance shakes his head, water dripping down his cheeks. "No, no that's adorable. Here, come on in! I'll teach you!"

Keith looks at the water, eyebrows furrowed. He's never been too fond of the idea of swimming. He hadn't seen the point. What fun was it to wallow in your own dirt water? A quick shower after a workout was enough, right? Right. Especially when he was home visiting dad on school holidays. There hadn't been water to spare.

"I'm not sure," Keith says and feels shiver of apprehension go up his spine as another splash of water makes it past the edge.

"Come on, you big scaredy cat! I thought you weren't afraid of anything!" The words are a tease, but Keith prickles immediately.

"What the hell, Lance? It's not like I'm scared of some stupid puddle of water!"

"Of course not, babe. Just come in! I made it super nice and warm, too. It's like swimming in lukewarm bathwater. It's amazing! We don't even need any chlorine so you don't have to worry about green hair! Not that you need to worry about that anyway," Lance continues, smile wide, right hand out, palm up like he's trying to tame a wild kitten. Keith resents the sudden thought and he flicks his eyes off the hand and back to the water.

"I'll just try it first," Keith says, inching forward until he's against the side, toes peeking past the edge. He lifts his foot and tries the water. It feels just like Lance had said, like lukewarm bathwater, bordering on cold.

"It'll be easier if you just jump in. You'll feel cold otherwise with the temperature change." Lance is still there, bobbing against the side, half out of the pool as he leans on his elbows against the tiles.

"How deep is it?" Keith asks, as he pulls safely back out of the water once more.

"Oh, right," Lance falls back into the water. "I made the whole pool deep enough to dive right in." He looks up at the panel. "I wonder if it'll listen to voice commands."

Keith tries to stop him, he really does, but Lance is already yelling, "Computer! Make the pool shallow!"

The whole room seems to shift. Keith feels a sudden tug in his gut and his eyes fall on the small droplets of water lifting off the tiles. With a sudden pang, he realizes what is about to happen two seconds before it happens. He catches Lance's gaze, and Keith can see the sudden realization hit him, eyes laced with alarm. Keith opens his mouth to—say something—but only manages to grab a single short breath before the water lifts fully and with the sudden change in gravity, everything flips over. They fall. 

Keith drops like a stone. Water engulfs him, swallows him up, and there is that small thrill of panic in the back of his mind as his lungs start to protest. Blinking, he opens his eyes to the slight sting of salt. The water yanks the towel from around him; it slips away. Panic laces his nerves and he thrashes around until something grazes his arm, then wraps around his waist. His hands instinctively grab on, but through the blur of water he sees the familiar tan skin and he pushes the urge to fight deep down, letting Lance haul his ass up. Soon enough, they break the surface. 

Keith coughs and looks around, trying to orient himself, before glancing up. The whole room has inverted, gravity reversed as the pool beneath them shifts into its new dimensions.

"Shit!" There's a spluttering gasp next to him and Keith gets one good look at Lance, mirroring his own dismay, before there is water surging around him once more and they plummet back down. 

This time Keith hangs on. Fingers gripping tight around Lance's arm, digging grooves into his flesh. His hand finds Lance's chest, arm slipping up to wrap around his neck, and he clings as the world rights itself. 

A moment later, Keith finds himself standing in chest-deep water. Precious air filling his lungs and he coughs, water droplets falling around them in a dewy mist as the excess moisture slowly evaporates from the room.

Keith opens his eyes and when the horrible thundering of his heart slows down he wrenches himself an arm's length away from Lance. His gaze meets startled blue eyes as they sit in the water, letting their breath even out.

"Whoops," Lance breaks the silence. "I guess I forgot about the distortion field. Coran might have mentioned that. Maybe."

"I hate you so much right now," Keith grumbles, as his fingers dig into his damp bangs and he attempts to push them back. They feel heavy and wrong flopping right back into his eyes. Frustrated, he dunks his head back, letting the dark hairs straighten themselves out before pulling back up, rivulets of water running down his bare shoulders as he starts to push his way toward the edge.

"Hey, hey! You can't just leave! We're just getting to the good part!" Lance calls back, slipping through the water, the whole act seemingly effortless, popping up next to Keith as he struggles forward. "I promise not to try to drown you again. Keith? My guy? My man?"

Keith balls his hands into fists and sloshes forward. He takes a breath and then turns, water splashing as he gives his best trademark glare. Lance balks for a second, his momentum taking him a bit farther before he stops, feet slipping back to the bottom.

"Fine. I'll give you ten minutes." Keith emphasizes his point by jabbing Lance against his sternum, none too lightly. "But if you try to so much as _think_ about drowning me, I will end you. And you know I will."

Lance lifts his hands out of the water, palms up and gives him a placating smile. "You'll be fine, I promise. I taught all my siblings how to swim."

"Even your older sister?" Keith asks, and gets a splash of water for his troubles. He splashes back, eyes darkening. He tries for a pounce, but the water slows him down and Lance laughs, gliding away and out of reach.

"Gotta do better than that, babe!" 

Keith splashes him again, but Lance is already out of range, his laughter echoing off the walls.

* * *

An hour later they find themselves lying next to the pool, feet in the water—Lance has turned the heat up nicely.

"Thanks for showing me the pool," Keith says, feet making languid waves in the water.

"Next time I'll actually show you how to swim properly," Lance promises. His hand finds Keith's and he laces their fingers together. He gives it a squeeze.

"I'll think about it," Keith replies, pulling his legs out of the water, perching them against the edge.

"Is that a promise?" There is a tease to Lance's words.

A soft laugh echoes through the room as Keith throws an arm up and over his eyes squeezing Lances fingers in return.

* * *

They lie on the tiled floor in silence, only punctuated by the dripping of water and the ever present whirl of the ship.

"I can't believe you actually put it on." Lance's voice breaks the stillness in the air and Keith peeks out from under his arm.

"Put what on?" Keith asks, eyes slowly following the other paladin's gaze only to jerk up to a sitting position, hands covering what he can of his chest. He'd somehow managed to forget what he'd been wearing due to the whole pool fiasco and resulting play. 

"What are you doing? It's not like you're covering anything I haven't seen before," Lance wiggles his eyebrows.

"You wear it, then! I'll have the ship make you a fucking pair and see how you like it," Keith growls, hugging his knees. 

Lance laughs as he sits up and leans in, palms warm on Keith's knee. " _Itsy, bitsy, teenie, weenie, r-ed polka dot bikini. . ._ ," he hums. "I know exactly where I should take you next!" Lance is on his feet and pulling Keith up before he registers what's happening.

"Wait—! What?" Keith asks as Lance pulls him along to another adjacent room. They step inside and Lance lets go of his hand only to clap his own together in a loud crack.

"The Sun Room!" Lance declares as he whirls around. The lights burst into life.

"Why is there a sunroom?" Keith groans, shadowing his eyes from the bright light. It stings after the soft blue light of the pool

"Because we, as a species, need Vitamin D! Duh!" Lance exclaims, but he does do something to the lights, as they start to dim. Keith blinks black flying flecks out of his eyes, feeling them adjust. 

"If Coran was so worried about us getting Vitamin D, he'd probably have shown us this place like—months ago." Keith peers around, taking a curious step in. The room isn't too big, and there are a good half dozen comfortable looking lounge chairs along with pillows scattered across the floor.

"Coran isn't here to give you your Vitamin _D_." Keith feels arms wrap around his waist, pulling him close, the last syllable a meaningful pop straight into his ear.

"That was awful," Keith says, trying to push away. There is a sudden sharp nip to the side of his neck in retaliation, but it's soothed by a kiss seconds later.

"You have no idea how good you look." Lance's words are accompanied by another kiss.

"Oh, really." Keith tilts his head, leaning back as the hands loosen, trailing up his torso, hovering precariously close to the red top. He twists around, hands making their way around Lance's neck.

"Yes, you have no idea what it does to me." The words are warm against his lips.

"Oh, I can tell," Keith leans forward, feeling the very obvious reaction against his hip. "Don't worry, I'll make it even better for you." He gives Lance that particular smile Keith knows won't be passed by. He takes Lance's hand and saunters to one of the chairs, only to turn around, hands planted on Lance's shoulders as he pushes him down to kneel in front of him. Lance gives him a grin as he looks up, waiting, the anticipation clear as he shifts on his knees. Keith quirks his eyebrow and slowly sits down onto the lounge chair. Keith gives it a cursory once-over--it's long enough to fit a person twice his width and definitely more comfortable than it looks, dark cushion over a sturdy metal frame. It would do.

"Now then," he purrs, turning back to Lance, so obedient in front of him. He rests his foot against Lance's thigh. "Are you going to be a good boy for me?"

He hears the swallow and sees the tiny wetting of lips as Lance shudders out a breath. There is already a visible dark patch growing on his mostly dried swimming trunks and he sits, hands gripping his knees as he waits. Keith cocks his head. That's more like it.

"Now then," he leans back against his hands, the earlier embarrassment gone as he preens at the heated look Lance gives him. His foot wanders higher, barely nudging against the wet spot, feeling the full body shudder run through Lance.

"So, how are you going to make it up to me, hmm?" he asks, sliding his foot back onto Lance's thigh. He leans forward, hands clutching the chair as Keith keeps him just far enough away, foot precariously close.

"I can make it up to you. I will—" Lance cuts off with a whine as Keith holds him in place with just a tiny pat from the sole of his foot.

"Now, now," Keith tuts, but quirks his finger anyway. Lance leans up and Keith runs his hands over his bare shoulders, up to scrape through his short brown locks. "You okay with this?" he asks, eyes intent on hazy blue.

He gets a nod in response. "I trust you."

It's enough and Keith leans in for a kiss, a soft press against lips. There are hands on his cheeks and he lets himself melt for a second, a tongue playfully licking its way into his mouth. Immediately, Keith tightens his hold, grappling for control as he brings his foot back into play.

"A-ahh!" is the satisfying result and Lance breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead heavily against Keith's thigh.

"I know something better you could do with your mouth," Keith whispers, ankle slipping to the small of Lance's back, nudging him closer. Large hands fall onto his hips and Keith feels his muscles stiffen.

Lance looks up at him, expectant and waiting, but he can already feel fingers find their way under the smooth red fabric and Keith watches those talented lips twitch into something resembling the start of that memorable cocky smile.

"Well," Keith quirks an eyebrow and Lance reverts his gaze down. 

Keith shivers.

The door has been left unlocked, this is practically a public space. Those two times in the showers after everyone else had gone to bed hardly counted as the same thing. And that one time on the observation deck. 

This is totally new ground for both of them and Keith feels his heart hammer in his chest as Lance pulls at the red polka dotted fabric. Keith watches and his dick twitches at the memory of those perfect lips and scalding mouth as Lance carefully pulls him out into the open air.

"You know what to do," Keith croons, hand finding purchase on top of brown hair, fingers carding through the silky strands.

Lance looks up and Keith tightens his hold instinctively, fingers tugging before relaxing again. Lance lowers his gaze and licks his lips, moving forward. Lips touch the side of his cock, a soft wisp of motion, barely there and he gets another look from those laughing blue eyes. It's Keith's turn to bite his lips as he can't help but watch. Lance brings his lips back, a hand finding its way to the base. Keith shudders.

Keith leans back against his hand, grounding himself as he feels the hot tongue swipe across the bottom vein, the expert licks and tiny touches teasing him to full hardness in what feels like seconds.

"Just like that, baby. You're doing so good," Keith hears the words pour out of his mouth, but he's too preoccupied biting back a groan to feel anything short of a pleased flush on his cheeks.

It's getting increasingly difficult to keep still, that delicious heat begging to be filled, but all Keith does is use the soft hold he has on Lance's hair to keep him from straying too far, letting him feel like he's in charge, at least for a few short minutes. There’s a moan and he can feel it, the hot tongue, the vibrations seemingly going straight through his dick as Keith takes a deep breath to keep from copying the sound.

His toes curl, one ankle still hooked behind Lance's lower back, but the other is stuck at an odd angle between them. He takes the moment as Lance changes positions—hand moving up as he licks the slit—to his advantage, toes swiping down at the very clear arousal tenting the front of blue swim trunks.

Lance stops, head snapping against Keith's thigh as he pants.

"I didn't tell you to stop," Keith barks, his tone scolding and he steels his features as Lance peeks up at him, face flushed, pupils blown wide enough to practically hide the blue that Keith loves so much. He toes at the erection again and he can feel Lance's fingers dig into his hip, the other hand slack before tightening again against his cock.

Keith can see Lance try to pull himself together, he's already taking a breath to say something, but Keith arches his brow and gives a terse shake of his head.

"You have better things to do with your mouth," he purrs, hand stroking Lance's bangs out of his face, only to grip the strands a bit tighter as he gives another soft stroke with his foot. "Take good care of me and I'll take good care of you." He leans forward as he speaks, but stops just short of kissing range, before pulling back, a small smirk playing at his lips. There is a clear flash of disappointment in Lance's eyes, but he turns his gaze back down onto his prize.

Lance licks his lips, the saliva glistening as he brings his tongue to swipe against the tip. Keith feels a shiver down to his toes as Lance engulfs him with gusto, his eyes spark as he looks up at Keith. Those eyes are watching him, taking in every small movement and hitch in breath and the delayed pleasure spikes, hitting him like a freight train, straight through his pores and he comes, toes curling against a satisfied smirk.

"Still got it," Lance hums against him as he licks the few droplets of come off his hand that managed to escape his mouth. Keith leans back, hand sliding out from under him and he can feel Lance right himself, standing up, hovering over him, hands boxing him in neatly.

"You can tug a bit harder," Lance says as he leans down, grinding unconsciously against Keith's thigh as he's twisted in an odd angle, feet still dangling off the side as he tries to right himself properly onto the lounge chair. "I like it."

"A-hmm," Keith hums, hands slipping to soft skin, hooking up around Lance's neck. He still feels the sweet swirl of bliss from his release and he pulls Lance closer.

"Babe, I'm gonna crush you if you don't let up," Lance chuckles into his neck. Keith bites his shoulder in response, but loosens his hold enough for Lance to pull back and look down at him. Lance smiles, soft and happy only to break into a groan as Keith brings his leg up, just enough to remind them both of the very insistent erection also happy and present.

"You gonna help me out?" Lance growls, eyes back to Keith's as he leans in.

"Not so fast," Keith says, fingertips stopping Lance from claiming his lips. He twists, pushing Lance off him toward the rise in the chair. He glances up at the metal upholstery and an idea pops into his head. 

"You just thought of something," Lance says, the words drawing Keith back to his very willing partner.

"Oh, did I?" Keith grins and goes for the tie at the back of his bikini. It takes him a moment, blunt nails fighting with the knot, but soon enough he has the top in hand. Lance looks at him, eyes intent on his uncovered nipples, but the pout to his lips is real.

"Why did you take it off? It looked so good," Lance whines even as his hands slide up Keith's sides veering toward the uncovered skin.

Keith grabs hold of his wandering hand, brings it up to his lips, eyes wicked as he slips the hand up, up over Lance's head. He gives Keith a surprised look, but catches on quick as Keith ties it down with half of the bikini string, knots coming with well attuned practice. Lance brings up his other hand without prompting and Keith finishes the job.

"Not too tight?" he asks, trying the ties with a finger.

Lance twists his wrists the best he can and he shakes his head. "Not too tight," he confirms. 

Keith lets out a pleased hum and sits, ass grinding down very deliberately. 

"You're killing me," Lance groans, head dropping back, eyes fluttering closed as Keith rakes his fingernails against his chest. He scoots back, hands bringing up white lines against tan skin all the way down to the blue of his trunks and ever so slowly he pulls them off, discarding them onto the floor. He sits back, eyes intent on his boyfriend who blinks up at him, a clear flush starting to creep up his cheeks at being so exposed and out in the open.

"Now what to do with you." Keith grins, the small heat of renewed arousal flooding his veins.

Lance pouts and tries to lean forward only to be thwarted by Keith's fingers on his sternum, pushing him back down.

"No. Stay," Keith commands and Lance whimpers, relaxing back the best he can against the ties. Keith pulls on Lance's discarded swim trunks, casts him one last glance as he lies on the chair, hands tied high above his head, erection prominent and angled slightly to the right.

There is a moment of panic on Lance's face as he watches Keith get ready to leave. "Can you at least give me a towel?" Lance asks, voice pitched high and Keith, in a moment of pity, throws a towel at him. The fact that it lands on his face and not his crotch might have just been purely bad aim. But probably not.

It doesn't take him long to pad back to the room he'd left his clothes in. He takes the bundle, along with the small basket of toiletries the ship was kind enough to provide, before hurrying back.

He stops in front of the door to the sunroom, hand going to the panel and inputting in the locking protocol Pidge had taught him. Just in case.

He slips inside, door sliding closed behind him. He tiptoes back, dumping the clothes onto a nearby chair. The sound makes Lance tense and Keith watches him for a moment, the silence stretching before the blue paladin shudders out a breath, cock jumping against his stomach.

_Interesting_. Keith shimmies out of the blue trunks, dropping them onto the tiles, but leaving the tiny red bikini bottoms on. He's already half hard again, but he ignores it as he rifles through the tiny basket of supplies. He finds a bottle of some sort of viscous oil, and he puts it aside.

"Keith?" comes the muffled query. Keith glances at Lance who's turned his head toward him. "I know that's you, but—" He swallows.

Keith stands up and walks over to Lance, placing the bottle aside as he moves to straddle him

"Can I at least see you—I'm—Ah!" Lance groans as Keith sits on his thighs. "Say something! P-please. . ."

Keith debates for a second, but in the end grabs a hold of Lance's cock and strokes it once with a lubed hand, smearing his thumb across the head causing it to dribble a tiny bit of precome. Lance pants against the towel, head dropping down to the cushion.

Keith lets go, splashing more alien lotion onto his fingers. Lance seems unaffected by the substance, so Keith braces himself on the chair, hand dropping down next to Lance's head–not quite close enough to touch. He lifts up just high enough, hand pushing against fabric to slip a finger inside. He can't help the groan slipping through as his cock grinds down against Lance's abs and the single digit slips in deeper.

He can feel the ragged intake of breath.

"Keith?" Lance tries again, the single word questioning, the clear need for affirmation there.

Keith shudders as he pulls out again. "I got you," he whispers by Lance's head and he can feel Lance shift toward his voice. The other man seems to relax even as he valiantly tries to shake his head to dislodge the impromptu blindfold. 

"Keep it on a bit longer?" 

Lance whines again as Keith sits back down far enough to rub his clothed cock over his. "Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah," comes the shuddering affirmation and Lance seems to sink back, letting Keith dribble a little more lube into his hand, working a second digit into himself. It had been a while, even just the two fingers felt like they were too much as he let his head fall down onto Lance's shoulder, the raspy cloth against his cheek.

He waited, flexing his fingers a little, scissoring them apart.

"You doing okay?" Lance questions from beneath him. 

"Been a while," Keith manages as he feels a dollop of lube slip between his fingers.

"Untie me—" Lance pleads.

"No," comes the terse reply even before Lance gets the full sentence out. Lance groans at the refusal, but gets his revenge as he bucks up suddenly. The jolt sends Keith's fingers in deeper, leaving him panting against the side of Lance's neck.

"Dick," Keith manages to grind out as he uses the opportunity to add a third finger.

"Here to serve," is the only reply—a little too much of a quip for Keith's liking so he grinds back down, leaning away and taking a pert nipple and twisting it with his free hand. The end of Lance's reply turns into a squeak. 

"Now, now. Be a good boy and stay still," Keith says, attempting to hide the stutter with a coy flip of tongue and a flick to the abused nipple.

He leans back forward, hand splayed against Lance's shoulder for balance as he resumes slowly fucking himself with his fingers. It's starting to be sloppy, the lube giving off an squelching sound with every thrust and Keith is keenly aware of the pulsing cock against his thigh.

Keith feels Lance's breath pick up again with every sound and he lets his own mouth drop open as the small sounds leak out.

He feels ready, fingers moving without too much effort and he pops them out, lubed hand dropping to the towel. He looks at the chair, the haze of lust already making it hard to think about the best way of doing this.

"Scooch up," Keith commands. Lance takes a breath and complies, straddling the chair as he moves to sit closer to the fold, arms twisted awkwardly next to his head.

"Can I see you? Please?" comes the plea once more as Keith perches up on his knees, shins pressed against Lance's thighs. He doesn't reply, just backs away slightly—he can't resist the urge to give the cock in front of him a steady pump and a small lick. Lance groans and tries to buck up, but he's held in place and Keith is already gone. Turning over, he backs up the best he can, until his lower back bumps into the very ready dick, already leaking a trail down the side after the small, but satisfying tease.

"Are you going to tease me to death?" Lance pants, hips nearly vibrating with the urge to move.

"I told you to be a good boy, didn't I?" Keith says, turning around to look at Lance. He rolls his eyes and takes his lubed up hand and pulls the towel finally off Lance's face. He's met with a sweaty brow and a red face.

"About—" Lance starts, but shuts up as Keith sends him a glare before turning away. His hands go to thighs and he lifts up to his knees. There's a sharp intake of breath as he guides Lance's cock between his cheeks. He can feel the overabundance of lube as it slides in, the head of his cock finding it's target and slowly, ever so slowly he slides down, knees giving way and he can feel that he's not the only one shuddering.

There's a sharp inhale behind him, but Lance keeps his tongue as Keith stops midway, fingers kneading into skin, nails scraping down as he tries to ground himself. He pulls up a fraction and then sinks back down, letting gravity do most of the work until it's too much again and he has to stop.

"You okay?" comes out a huffed whisper and all Keith can do is nod his head. He wets his lips and bottoms out with a gasp. He can feel the sweat slide down his brow and he leans back against Lance's chest, head bumping against his elbow before slipping down to rest against his arm.

"You sure, love?" comes the question again and Keith gives a breathy chuckle. 

"Yeah. It's just been a while," Keith mutters leaning to the side smacking a kiss on Lance's jaw.

"I was certain you'd take me instead," Lance answers and then groans as Keith shifts on his lap. "But you're literally killing me, please. Please move or I'm going to explode."

Keith shifts again, grinding on Lance's lap before lifting up a bit and dropping down. Lance gasps and knocks his head back nearly elbowing his boyfriend in the side of the head.

Keith leans back forward, hands back on thighs as he shifts up.

"Oh, god," Lance moans. "You kept them on." Keith can't help the smirk that plays on his lips as he slams back down, the rest of Lance's remark dying into unintelligible gibberish.

He sets a slow pace, one he can handle for a while, making sure to grind down extra hard every couple of turns—the guttural moans going straight to his own dick that he is blatantly ignoring as he rides toward his own high.

He leans back a bit, making the plunge down and instead of the normal distance he'd already gotten used to, Lance meets him halfway. Keith gasps, hands digging divots as he has to take a second, bright lights dancing in his eyes.

"Like that," Lance pants. "I could give you more if you'd untie me." His voice is way too smooth in Keith's opinion and he takes the opportunity to slam back down. He feels Lance's head hit the back of his neck, the hairs tickling as he groans. 

"For real though," Lance gasps.

"N-no," Keith manages as Lance keeps pace with him now–from pure spite, Keith is 98% certain. "I want to go all the w-way!" He leans forward again and there, he feels his head dip lower as Lance manages to hit just the right spot.

"There?" Lance asks through his teeth as he hits it again, and Keith sees stars.

"F-fuck," is all he gets out as he feels the heat escalate at an exponential pace. "I'm gonna come."

"That's the plan." Keith can feel the smirk as he lands another direct hit.

"Shut–u-up!" He cries out as he comes. He feels his hips stutter, but he valiantly drives down until he feels the telltale shiver and feels Lance come. He slows down, leans back, spent and exhausted.

They stay there for a while until Lance bites down on Keith's exposed neck. "Untie me," he mutters as he kisses the spot. "I can't feel my fingers."

"Oh, shit." Keith pulls off and grimaces as the bikini bottom slides back and he can feel the mixture of lube and come trickle out. He turns, fingers still shaky as he goes for the knots.

"God damn," he curses, fingers barely making headway. His eyes fall to the pile of clothes, knife prominent at the top and he backs away onto wobbling feet and grabs it before slicing through the bonds.

"Why'd you do that for?" Lance groans as he brings his hands down, cracking his shoulders and massages his wrists as Keith takes the knife and slices away the rest of the bikini top. 

"We're never going to speak of this again," Keith mutters as he drops the knife to the side and takes Lance's arm, massaging the feeling back to his hand.

"Aww, you were being so ni–" 

"Shut up if you want to keep your thumbs," Keith replies, giving a particularly nasty tug at his right thumb.

Lance shuts up smartly, but Keith feels his eyes as he continues to tug at his fingers. He moves to the other hand, eyes turned down as he turns his hand over, fingers digging into his palm.

"Are you honestly embarrassed?" Lance asks. Keith gives him a short glance before focusing back to his hands. "That is the cutest thing I've seen. And I've seen a lot." 

"Shut up," Keith digs in particularly hard and Lance shuts his mouth, but can't help the smile tugging at his lips.

"Come here." Lance pulls his hands free and pulls Keith's gaze back up. He can feel the flush creep across his cheeks as Lance gives him a lingering kiss.

"Okay!" Lance jumps up, dashing for the blue trunks. "Time for a shower, I think!"

He grabs Keith's hand and pulls him up. He wobbles a bit and Lance catches his elbow before pulling him into a hug.

"Now, I can say that I cradled you in my arms," Lance whispers. Keith bristles and breaks away from the embrace to gather his own clothes.

"In your fucking dreams," he calls out as he makes his way toward the door. He hears Lance laugh and jog up to catch him. An arm slides around his shoulders and Keith lets himself be pulled into the embrace as they finally leave the sunroom.

"Well, you can never say I didn't show you where to get your Vitamin D," Lance chuckles and earns a sharp elbow to the gut, but Keith can't help the smile as he leans against his boyfriend—for once, happy for the support.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at [tumblr](http://bluphacelia.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/blu_tweets). 
> 
> I'd also love prompts if anyone wants to throw me one, my inbox is always open!


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